


A Nightmare to Remember

by blackwatchandromeda



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Tony Stark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fear, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Iron Dad, Ironstrange if you squint, Nightmares, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Whump, spider son, tony gets to punch his dad in the face
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-09 02:22:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17398184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackwatchandromeda/pseuds/blackwatchandromeda
Summary: After a strange encounter on patrol, Peter finds himself increasingly unable to sleep. When Tony discovers his insomnia, he realizes it could be much more dangerous than either of them thought: enter Dr. Stephen Strange, and a journey through both of their worst nightmares.(Irondad and Spiderson, feat. a twist on the well-loved Insomnia trope!)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> here we go again! we're off on another irondad and spiderson fic, with a few (easily ignorable) hints of ironstrange.
> 
> in this fic, everyone is still at the tower. the accords were scrapped and the avengers live mostly-peacefully in the tower, though that won't matter hugely to the plot.
> 
> ~~also i did not lie in the tags - tony will indeed get to deck howard i hope you're all excited~~
> 
> i hope you all enjoy!

"Peter?"

"Yes, Karen?"

"There seems to be an attempted mugging taking place two blocks to the east."

"Then let's go!" Peter whoops, leaping off the roof he's perched on.

The wind whips past his mask as he falls, and a grin spreads across his face before he snaps his fingers to his palm and webbing shoots outwards. Peter swings towards Karen's marker, glowing on his HUD, and flings himself up to the top of the building overlooking it. An alley stretches below him. Some guy in a lime-green hoodie is advancing on a suited woman in the far corner, who's clutching her bag to her side as she takes a step back. The glint of metal catches his eye, and Peter sees another mugger brandishing a gun at the woman.

"Nice color," he quips, jumping down to land behind the guy. He whips round, holding the gun tightly. "Really... really contrasts with your skin, you know?" The green accentuates the man's pallor, making him look ill. As Peter speaks, his face twists into a glare.

"Fuckin' Spider-Man," the other one curses, raising the gun.

"Woah, don't point that at me," Peter protests. "What if you accidentally shoot me? That would suck for everyone."

"If I shoot you, it won't be an accident," she spits.

"See, that just hurts my feelings."

Hoodie lets out a yell and charges, and Peter flips out of the way before webbing his side. He stumbles, arm immobile, as Gun raises the weapon and shoots twice. Peter dodges both, and he's about to focus on her before Hoodie sends a punch careening towards him. Peter's spidey-sense sparks and he ducks. The fist sails right into Gun's face and she lets out a cry as she staggers back, letting go of the pistol with one hand. Hoodie's above him, overbalancing, and Peter pushes up and Hoodie falls over his shoulder, hitting the ground with a thump and a grunt. Peter webs him up fully, and Hoodie tries and fails to struggle out of the restraint. The focus on the man means that Gun's had time, though, and as Peter's head jerks up he sees the barrel pointed straight at him. Gun yells something in a language he doesn't recognize, and her eyes flash green for a split-second. Peter's eyes widen and she fires, and he tries to lunge out of the way. The bullet hits his arm, grazing it just below his shoulder. Stinging pain tears across it and Peter grimaces. He straightens and fires a web straight at the handgun, tearing it right out of Gun's hands. She swears as she's pulled slightly forward, and Peter uses the opening to kick her backwards. She hits the wall and Peter sends a barrage of webs towards her.

"That was really mean," he tells her. "You should be nicer to strangers. Try it with the cops when they come to pick you up, maybe?"

Gun lets out a stream of curses, and Peter turns towards the businesswoman, who's staring at him.

"You okay, ma'am?" he asks, and she nods vigorously.

"Thank you, Spider-Man," she tells him, and hurries out of the alley.

He smiles, and swings away.

"What time is it, Karen?" he asks once he's high up again, eyes roving over the streets below him.

"It's currently ten to midnight, Peter."

"Crap!" Peter yelps. May's new curfew is a strict twelve o'clock _or else_. He lets go of the web he's on, firing another to the side. "I gotta get home," he mutters to himself.

It takes him seven minutes to get back home, in the end, and he hurriedly checks around before crawling through the window into his room. He peeks out of the doorway to see May sitting on the couch with a mug in her hands.

"I'm back, May," he says.

May smiles. "Hey, baby. Good patrol?"

Peter nods. "Yeah. Yeah, I stopped a mugging, and some guy who was robbing the convenience store on 73rd. And then someone trying to steal a car. And then... and then another mugging," he finishes.

"That's my boy," she says, setting the drink down as she gets up. "Come here." Peter goes over, and May gives him a tight hug. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Night, May." She releases him and Peter returns to his room, taking off the Spider-Man suit quickly before getting ready and diving under the covers. The graze on his arm stings slightly when his duvet brushes against it. He yawns, turning over, and closes his eyes.

Peter wakes up early the next day. It's Saturday, his weekly internship day with Tony. Usually, his weekends are divided into interning on Saturday and Spider-Man on Sunday, giving him time for both major aspects of his life. It's a system that keeps May happy, and so it works.

"May?" he calls, swinging out of bed. "May, I'm going to head over."

He looks around the empty apartment twice for her before he sees the note on the kitchen counter. May's gone grocery shopping. Peter sends her a quick text telling her he's leaving, then packs the suit into his backpack. It got slightly damaged from Gun's shot yesterday, and he knows Tony always prefers it when Peter tells him sooner rather than later about injuries to it. He pulls on one of his science pun tees - _I lost an electron. Are you positive?_ \- and practically runs out of the house, eager to get to the Tower. It's a roughly hour-long ride from his home to Tony's using the subway, and he spends most of it nodding along to music. His dancing, MJ tells him regularly, leaves a lot to be desired; Peter doesn't pull it out in public. Once he starts mouthing along to the lyrics, though, the look the woman opposite gives him says it all.

Finally, he gets to the Tower, getting off at Grand Central and walking the rest of the way. The doors open for him with a pneumatic hiss, and he digs out his security badge and loops it around his neck. He recognizes Jess on reception today, and she gives him a bright smile before going back to whoever she's on the phone with. Peter heads for the security gate and flashes the badge as he walks through, then takes the elevator up to Tony's floors.

" _Good morning, Peter_ ," FRIDAY greets him when he steps out, holding onto his backpack strap with one hand.

"Hey, FRIDAY. How's it going?"

" _It's going well, thank you. Boss is waiting for you in the lab_ ," she replies, a hint of amusement.

"Great," Peter says. "Thanks!"

Tony is, indeed, in the lab. Peter pushes the door open to find him tinkering with something he doesn't recognize, an expression of focused concentration on his face. At the sound of the glass swinging back, Tony looks up and his face breaks into a smile.

"Hey, Pete," he says, going back to the device. "How was school?"

"Oh, it was fine, thank you, Mr. Stark," Peter tells him, dumping his backpack on the free workstation across from Tony. "Pretty normal."

Tony makes a humming noise. "Mmhmm. And how was spider duty?"

"It was good. It was really good!" Peter blurts out.

"Spit it out, kid."

"I _might_ have damaged the suit. Not much! I just thought I would, uh, tell you," Peter trails off, carefully extracting the suit from his bag and holding it up to show Tony.

Tony sighs. "Alright, bring it over. Where?"

"Just here," Peter says, flattening the fabric out on Tony's table and pointing to the slight tear.

"That's not too bad. Easy fix," Tony tells him, and pulls open the drawer of his desk. "What happened?"

Peter rubs at the back of his neck and returns to his workstation, jumping up to sit on the table, legs swinging. "Someone tried to shoot me."

Tony produces a tiny box of precision tools and starts working on Peter's suit, inspecting the tear. "Who?"

"I don't know. Just a mugger. But she was really weird."

Tony looks up. "Really weird?"

"Yeah. So first I saw them and the only thing I noticed about them was that one guy was wearing a hoodie that was, like, I _swear_ , a crime against fashion, and the other one had a gun so I thought I'd be fine," Peter begins, "but then when I was stopping them she was trying to shoot me and then she just yelled something and I still don't know what it was but then her eyes just _flashed_ , Mr. Stark, and then she shot me and it was only a graze but it was really weird."

Tony blinks, and raises an eyebrow. "Wow. Sounds like she's escaped from Strange's rogues gallery." He finishes tugging the sides of the tear together, and picks up another tool, running it carefully along the gap.

"Strange?" Peter asks, frowning.

"Doctor Strange. I met him a couple months back. He's a _wizard_ ," Tony says almost absentmindedly, eyes narrowing as he finishes repairing the suit. "Okay, kid. That should do it."

Peter hops off the table and picks up the suit, examining the now non-existent tear. "Thanks, Mr. Stark," he says.

"You sure you didn't get injured anywhere else?" Tony asks, looking up at him.

Peter shakes his head. "No. It was a really good day, actually."

"Fair enough," Tony says. "You got homework?"

Peter pauses for a second, running through the list in his mind. "Yeah," he admits. "Calculus. Just one, though."

Tony nods. "You want to get it out of the way now?"

Peter rolls his eyes. "Fine, _dad_."

Tony looks up from his work, brows raised, and points his soldering iron straight towards Peter. "No. Shut up," he says, and Peter grins.

"You love it when I call you that," he points out.

"The flak from the others is not worth it, kid. Barton still won't take that mug back."

Peter laughs. The first time he slipped up and called Tony _dad_ in front of the Avengers, Clint nearly choked on his drink. The next time he came back from staying with his family, he brought back a _World's Best Dad_ mug and refused to let Tony reject it. Peter decides not to bring up that it's one of the two abandoned, recently-used mugs in the corner of Tony's desk, instead heading back over to his station.

Peter sits down and pulls the calculus assignment out, grabbing a pen. His class are covering second-order differentials, and Flash has been making his displeasure about the hard topic known all week. There's a knack to solving them, though, so it's more a matter of time than difficulty for Peter. He works his way steadily through the questions, one to nineteen, and spends a little longer on twenty through to twenty-five. It's a trademark of the professor to write out a few harder, longer problems at the end, though they're still well within the range of doable. Eventually, he writes down the final solution and stuffs the sheet back in his backpack.

"All done, kid?" Tony asks, voice slightly muffled. When Peter turns around, he sees the man's head half-inside whatever he's working on.

"Uh, yeah," Peter says, staring. "Mr. Stark, what is that?"

Tony emerges, face slightly red. "What, this? This is part of Veronica."

"Veronica?"

"It's a mobile service module Banner and I designed. It's meant to be in space at the moment, attached to a satellite, but the readings went a bit screwy. Thought I'd call it back and see what the problem is," Tony explains.

"What does it do?"

"Holds the Hulkbuster, and it can act as an electric containment unit for enemies. Originally the Hulk, but..." Tony trails off, and shrugs. "It's not like he's been around recently."

"Wow." Peter trails his fingers across the smooth back, remembering the news stories on the Hulkbuster armor. He'd seen footage of it, before he got his powers; shining red plating towering over the civilians involved. May had been terrified for their safety, Ben silently worried, but Peter remembers watching in awe. He'd taken it as another reason to idolize Tony. "Which bit is this?"

"Part of the inner casing," Tony says, words strangely garbled. Peter looks up to see a screwdriver held in his mouth. "Pressure seal's broken."

"Do you, uh..." Peter trails off, taking a breath, "need help?"

Tony looks up at him, pausing for a second. "You know what? Sure. C'mon, scoot over."

Peter grins and drags his chair to the other side of the workbench, and Tony moves to the side to make room. The inside of the casing is covered in electronics, a huge motherboard in the center spreading out like a spider to the edges. Tony's currently fiddling with a component at the top.

"This is the regulator," he explains, and Peter concentrates on the words. "It's supposed to compensate for any pressure changes outside or inside. There's another one on the other side, but that's already working."

"Okay."

"Now, what we want is to get it out super slowly. I've disassembled most of the rest of it, and it's all functional, which means the damn regulator is the problem. Unfortunately," Tony continues, "it's also the most complicated piece of kit in the casing. We have to be smart about this, Pete, got it?"

"Got it, Mr. Stark."

"Alright. So, take this," Tony tells him, handing him the flat-head, "and we're going to use it as a lever to get _this_ baby out." He points with a fingernail at a tiny black device to the left of the regulator.

"Use a screwdriver? As a lever?" Peter asks doubtfully.

"Yeah, kid, keep up."

"Mr. Stark, you have, like, _boxes_ of stuff. Do you not have an actual lever?"

Tony makes a _pfft_ sound, puffing out the corner of his mouth. "Probably. Hell if I know where it is, though, and this'll do just the same if we're careful."

"Okay, Mr. Stark," he says, grinning, and Tony rolls his eyes.

"Don't take that tone with me, Parker," he scolds, though his tone is light and Peter swears he can see the man suppressing a smile. "Lever, lever."

"I'm going!" Peter mock-protests, focusing as he carefully slots the head of the screwdriver beneath the component. Slowly, he angles the tool down and the device comes off with a click.

Tony catches it before it falls to the desk, giving it a quick once-over and inspecting where it used to be on the casing. He nods. "Nice job, Pete. Now, we gotta disengage the regulator manually. You ready?"

"You know I am, Mr. Stark."

Tony instructs Peter on how to take apart the rest of the regulator, and then it's off and in Peter's hands. They spend what feels like days poring over it, running tests with FRIDAY's assistance and theorizing on the problem. It's Peter who finally spots it; a tiny chip of metal, the same color as the regulator itself, is lodged between two wires within the component.

"It's creating a short circuit," Peter says, showing Tony.

The man squints closer, then suddenly stands. "God, my eyesight's getting bad. Or maybe it's just your freaky senses, kid," Tony mutters, and comes back with a magnifying glass attached to a torch. He switches on the light and takes the regulator, inspecting it with the glass. "Yep, you got it spot on. That'll be damage from a collision of some kind, but we'll deal with whatever caused it later. For now..." He produces a pair of precision forceps from seemingly nowhere, and carefully plucks the debris out. "Done. Alright, FRIDAY?"

" _Yes, Boss_?"

"Let's, uh... run the electrical conductivity test again. See if we get the same voltage reading as before."

They don't; this time, the component is showing up with the right amount of electrical potential. Tony runs the device through a couple more tests before he's satisfied, and then he sets it down and grins.

"Nice work, kiddo," he says.

Peter beams, and lets out a small whoop. Tony grins at him.

"Don't get too excited," he says, and Peter feels his smile falter.

"Huh?"

Tony gestures to the desk, and it's only then that Peter registers the destruction laying scattered across it. Pieces from the casing are everywhere, stacked in precarious towers and small piles, spilling out across the entire desk. "We gotta put this all back."

Thankfully, Tony knows where everything goes. It's a blessing, to be honest; without him, Peter would be completely lost. Under his direction Peter repairs the regulator unit and then the components surrounding it, and then they both start working on the general casing together. Peter's replaced at least six resistors and reconnected countless wires, while Tony handles the more expensive stuff that's _worth more than your suit, kid_. They're well on their way to being finished, at last, when Tony reaches under the desk and produces a huge, shaped sheet of metal.

"Whew," he says, resting a hand on top of it. "Ready to fix the outside?"

That's when Peter's phone buzzes, and he looks down to see a text from May.

 

_May Parker, 9:56pm_

_You guys have got distracted again, haven't you?_

 

"Oops."

 

_May Parker, 9:57pm_

_If Tony okays it, you can stay at the Tower tonight._

 

_May Parker, 9:57pm_

_But you better be home tomorrow, mister!_

 

_May Parker, 9:57pm_

_Stay safe, Peter. Love you xxx_

 

"What?" Tony asks, looking at Peter's phone screen.

"I've been here for way too long," Peter murmurs. "May texted me."

"Really? What time is it?"

 

_Peter Parker, 9:59pm_

_I'm so sorry, May!_

 

_Peter Parker, 9:59pm_

_We really lost track of time_

 

" _It's currently ten p.m., Boss_."

 

"God. Well, time flies, huh?" Tony remarks, still holding on to the piece of metal in his lap, wrists crossed lightly over the top.

 

_May Parker, 10:00pm_

_It's fine, honey. I know how you two get sometimes._

 

_May Parker, 10:00pm_

_Are you staying?_

 

Peter looks up. "May says I can stay here if you okay it." When Tony doesn't respond, he tries again. "So...?"

 

Tony stares at him for a second before shrugging. "So what?"

 

"Are you okay with me staying the night?" Peter asks, frowning slightly.

 

Tony looks taken aback for a second before he laughs. "Of course, Pete. You're always welcome here. You don't need to _ask_ , kid."

 

Peter smiles at him. "Thanks, Mr. Stark."

 

_Peter Parker, 10:02pm_

_Yep I am, if that's ok_

 

_May Parker, 10:02pm_

_Of course, sweetie. See you tomorrow xxx_

 

_Peter Parker, 10:03pm_

_See you tomorrow, May! Love you_

 

Peter locks his phone and puts it back on the table, shoving it over to the corner. Tony straightens, taking his arms off the top of the casing and placing it onto the workstation.

"Right," Tony murmurs for a second, before he hands a drill and the required bit to Peter. "Screws here," he says, tossing a near-overflowing box of cross-head screws. "You know where the socket is, right?"

Peter's already under the table, plugging in the drill. "'Course I do, Mr. Stark," he calls, and retreats from underneath the desk.

"Great," Tony says, holding his own drill. "Obviously, drill where there are holes and don't make any new ones. Let's go, shall we?"

Tony lifts the metal and attaches it to the other half of the casing section. It fits in nicely with a clunk, and Peter grabs a couple of screws to put them closer to him as Tony sticks a bunch in his mouth. Peter can't help the snort that escapes him at the sight of Tony with screws protruding haphazardly from his face, and feels a light slap on his arm. Tony mumbles something around the metal that sounds like _shut up, kid_. Peter just grins, and presses down on the drill's trigger.

By the time they're done, the box of screws only has a couple of bits remaining, rattling around in the empty plastic. Peter's shucked off his hoodie to continue, revealing the pun, and Tony grinned, screws and all. Veronica's casing is finished, and Tony pats it affectionately as he stands up. "Great. She'll run without assistance for a while, I think. Now we've just got to attach it to the rest of the satellite, but I'll do that tomorrow. For now, your lovely aunt will _kill_ me if you go a night without sleep again in this lab."

Peter shrugs. "You're not wrong."

Tony lets out a mock huff. "Honestly, what did I do to deserve this sarcasm, kid?" Peter grins, getting off the chair and joining Tony as he starts walking out of the lab. "FRIDAY, close it down," he says as they push open the glass door and walk out into the corridor. The lights fade into darkness behind them, and they head off to their respective rooms.

Peter's arm hurts, oddly, where Tony pretended to hit him. It's an odd sensation caught between stinging and aching, right where Peter was grazed by the mugger's bullet. He's overcome by a huge yawn when he steps into his room, though, and it pushes the musing on the pain away. Tiredness sweeps over him, and he drifts off.

It's the middle of the night when he wakes, bolting upright, sweating as his breath comes in short gasps and his heart pounds. Fear races across his body for a second before it fades, slipping into the ether just like the nightmare it came from. Peter stays stock-still for a few seconds, panting for breath, hands fisted in his sheets.

" _Are you alright, Peter?_ " FRIDAY's voice rings out suddenly, making him jump. " _I'm detecting a significantly increased heart-rate from inside your room_."

Peter breathes. _In, out_. "I'm okay, FRIDAY," he says unsteadily. "I'm fine. Thanks."

" _Okay, Peter_ ," FRIDAY answers, and, if he didn't know better, Peter would swear there's a hint of reproach in her tone.

He lays back, letting out a huff as he falls onto the mattress and stares at the ceiling, one hand resting on his forehead. It's just a nightmare. Peter's been having bad dreams since before he became Spider-Man, and he's no stranger to waking up in the middle of the night. This is nothing new.

Peter tries to fall asleep for roughly five minutes before he lets out a sigh and throws off his duvet. He's too on edge to sleep, now, too alert to let himself drift off. He swings his legs out of bed and pads to the door, opening it slowly. He's well aware Tony, and several other Avengers, are incredibly light sleepers. Quietness is a priority; he does not want a repeat of the time he managed to wake up the whole compound by tripping over a trashcan in the hallway. The compound is usually silent at this time, in the early hours when all but the most persistent insomniacs are asleep. Peter creeps carefully through the corridor and into the elevator, and asks FRIDAY to take him to the communal areas.

" _Are you sure you're alright, Peter?_ " she asks, though he's already moving when she asks the question.

"Yeah, FRIDAY, I promise. I'm just hungry," Peter lies.

There's a beat of silence before the lift stops moving and the doors slide open.

"Thanks, FRIDAY," Peter says, hearing the awkwardness in his own voice, and darts out towards the kitchen area.

Tony, being Tony, installed a fridge-freezer of his own design in the kitchen, a tall appliance that reads _Stark Industries_ in bold font across the freezer door. There's an ice machine embedded in the other door, and Peter pulls it open to look in the fridge. He pulls out a carton of milk and takes down a glass from the cabinet, pouring himself a drink. Milk, stupid as though he's sure it sounds, has always helped him sleep. He remembers in vague, sepia-toned snippets the way his mother used to bring him a glass of milk and a hug when he couldn't sleep, fully aware of the occasional struggle to drift away. Peter can't do anything about the hug, but he can damn well drink milk: and, as he finishes the glass, he's already feeling drowsier. He replaces the carton in the fridge and washes the glass quickly, setting it back in the cabinet before he heads back to his room.

He sleeps soundly through the rest of the night.

Peter wakes up late on Sunday, the combination of working in extreme focus for the whole of Saturday and his three a.m. milk run meaning he sleeps in. He darts in to the lab again to say goodbye to Tony, who's decked out in a suit and about to pick up Veronica's casing and put the whole unit back in orbit, before he scoops up his backpack and suits up. Spider-Man swings into action with a bag on his back this time, secured by tight straps. He's made sure it's his most nondescript one, a plain black backpack that's worn by nearly every student at Midtown. He makes his way slowly back to Queens as the day progresses, clearing out crimes as he goes, and he finally reaches home at around five.

May is waiting when he gets back, and she rolls her eyes as she pulls him in for a hug.

"Peter Parker," she says, "how is it that you always manage to lose track of time?"

"Sorry, May," Peter apologizes, though he's smiling. He knows enough to recognize when May's angry, or stressed, but right now she's just amused.

She pulls back, looking straight at him. "What am I going to do with you? You're too clever for me."

Peter shakes his head. "Nah, May. Nobody could do what you do if they weren't clever."

"Oh, _psh_." May waves a hand at him, eyes crinkling behind her glasses. "You give me too much credit. Did you manage to get your homework done?"

Peter nods. "Yep."

May reaches out a hand to ruffle his hair. "Well done, Pete. What do you want to do? You still have time to patrol, if you want, or..." She trails off slightly, looking him up and down. "You probably do want to go on patrol, don't you?"

"What else were you thinking?" Peter blurts out. "I mean, if I, uh... if I didn't go out?"

"Well," May says, " _L'Avventura_ is on in an hour or so."

Peter grins. Old Italian movies are May's secret weakness. He must have seen _Avventura_ fifty times with her already.

"If we have an hour, I could patrol until then and then... come back?" Peter suggests.

May beams. "Sounds like a plan. Make sure you stay safe, okay?" she reminds him, and Peter nods.

"I will, May. Thank you!" he tells her over his shoulder, already heading back to his room and the still-open window.

"Bye, honey!" she calls as he perches on the edge of the roof, and then he's off.

Karen only picks up word of a couple of minor crimes: a bike thief on 72nd, and a bodega robbery in the same place. The guy trying to hold the store up has a shaky grip on the gun, and nearly drops it when he sees Spider-Man. He's not difficult to deal with. All in all, it's a relatively quiet hour, which Peter's always grateful for. More quiet means less crime, which he can't complain about. He webs his way back to the apartment just as May is turning the TV on, and practically leaps onto the sofa as the movie starts rolling.

_Tell me that you love me_ , Claudia says in Italian.

Sandro fixes her with a look. _I love you_.

_Tell me once more_.

" _I don't love you_ ," May and Peter proclaim dramatically.

The movie continues regardless of the giggles they devolve into, and eventually the end credits scroll across the screen. May checks the time as Peter yawns.

"You tired, baby?" she asks. "It's only eight."

Peter nods. " _Yeah_ ," he sighs. "Don't know why."

May smiles at him. "Go on, then," she acquiesces. "I'll see you in the morning. Night, honey."

"Night, May," he tells her, as is their routine, and he does indeed head off to bed. He figures it's the mentally-active weekend that's worn him out so much.

Peter is just about to climb under the covers when his shoulder catches the light, and the graze is thrown into stark contrast.

"What the hell?" he murmurs.

It's still there, just as prominent as when the bullet first caught him, which is strange enough already. His healing factor should have taken care of it long ago. The more worrying thing, though, is the intricate assortment of lines emerging from the wound. They look almost like magnetic field lines, stretching out from the ends of the tear in his skin to arc around and fuse together again. Peter stares, and rubs at them slightly. Pain spikes through his arm when he touches it, and he recoils slightly.

A sudden wave of exhaustion rolls over him like a suffocating blanket, and Peter blinks slowly as he sways on his feet. _God_ , he needs to sort out his sleep schedule. He reasons to himself that the graze's permanence is probably, at least in part, due to the lack of shut-eye he's been getting. The overwhelming urge to rest washes across his mind, and his feet start moving practically of their own accord as he shuffles over to bed. He's asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

He jolts awake half an hour later, breathing panicked once again. Green flashes behind his eyelids, though the dream fades from his mind before he can grasp it. Peter's heart pounds in his ears, thumping heavily. He shuts his eyes, willing his body to _calm down, it's just a dream_.

He doesn't sleep for the rest of the night.

The rest of the week does not get better. Peter wakes on Monday morning to find a note from May explaining that she's drawn two short straws in a row, being assigned to cover the late night shift _and_ double down to compensate for a pregnant colleague. She'll be away for both mornings and evenings this week, she explains. School is uncharacteristically boring, and Peter finds the glaze of tiredness softening everything he hears. The worst bit is when Mrs. Warren assigns them a veritable mountain of homework, and Peter sees his free evening evaporate like dust at the prospect of so much physics to do. As a result, Spider-Man doesn't emerge. Tuesday is much the same, and Peter has to actively resist the urge to let his eyes drift shut during Calculus. Decathlon practice goes by in a blur; MJ says something snarky at the end that Peter barely registers.

"Are you alright, dork? Even Flash answered more correctly than you did."

He doesn't have a reply, and it ends in MJ walking away with a frown on her face. When he gets home, it's all he can do to dig out the remainder of Mrs. Warren's work. Spider-Man, again, gets pushed to the back-burner.

Peter's insomnia slowly worsens, and he's woken every night by flashes of fear and mist and pain. The nightmares get gradually clearer in his mind; though he's still far from knowing what's in them, vague concepts remain stuck in his memory. He fails to return to sleep after a single awakening, instead lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, wishing he could simply shut his eyes and drift off. Milk stops working, no longer even making him drowsy, on Wednesday evening.

He barely gets through the rest of school. Wednesday passes by in a strained blur, Peter forcing himself to stay awake. Thursday and Friday are worse; MJ takes one look at him when he turns up to decathlon on Thursday and promptly sends him away. Peter stands outside aimlessly for a good five minutes before it sparks in his brain that he probably needs to get home. Spider-Man still doesn't emerge; Peter doesn't have the energy to do anything except lie on his bed, wishing for sleep. When it finally does come, the nightmares tag along with it. Peter wakes up half-yelling on Thursday, and thanks his stars that May hasn't come home yet.

Everything comes to a head on Friday, in the middle of Trigonometry, when Peter's head hits the table with a bang. He sits straight up, wildly dizzy. Everyone twists to look at him, and he realizes he's briefly lost consciousness in the  _middle of class_.

"Mr. Parker?" the professor calls, and Peter blinks dizzily once. Twice.

"Dude!" Ned hisses from next to him. "Are you okay? What's going on?"

"What?" Peter slurs.

"Have you slept at all this week, Parker?" MJ asks, voice surprisingly gentle. The question takes several seconds to register, Peter staring at her while he processes it.

"Yes," he defends, but MJ shakes her head.

Ned turns away from him, facing the teacher again, who's come closer to their desks. "I really think Peter needs to go to the nurse," he says. Peter can't currently recall the name of their teacher; he's a sub for someone else, though he can't think past the foggy block in his head to decide who it is.

"Fine," he says. "Mr. Parker, go with Mr. Leeds. I expect you back in class," he adds, directed to Ned, who nods and stands up.

"C'mon, Peter," Ned encourages quietly. "Let's go."

Ned slings an arm round Peter's shoulders as he gets up, and the world spins disorientingly around them. He registers MJ standing up on his other side, and the teacher frowns.

"Ms. Jones, I'd prefer if you stayed. Mr. Leeds will help Mr. Parker."

"No, I think I'm going to go with them, actually," he hears MJ say flippantly, and then suddenly they're outside the nurse's office. Peter looks around, unsure how they got there so quickly.

The next thing he knows, he's sitting on a white bed in the small room attached to the nurse's office. Ned and MJ have gone.

"Just try and get some sleep, alright?" the nurse is saying, as she puts a small amount of pressure on his shoulders to lay him down. "I'll excuse you from the last few periods of the day."

Peter nods numbly, the exhaustion fogging over everything else in his mind, as she gives him a smile and leaves the room. He lies awake, staring up at the ceiling once again. This time, he supposes the inability to drift off is a blessing; if he had another nightmare here, waking up yelling again, he's sure the nurse would overreact.

When the bell finally rings to signal the end of school, Peter gets up unsteadily and half-stumbles out of the office. The nurse makes a surprised noise as he goes out past her desk and into the corridor, but she doesn't try to stop him. Peter feels like a zombie, half-aware as he trudges through the Midtown halls. Fresh air and bright light hits his face and he squints, looking up. He's on the steps of the school. Peter lets his autopilot take over, trusting the route ingrained in his mind from years of riding transport to reach Midtown to get him home. Loud honking blares from behind him as he walks away.

Suddenly, someone's in front of him, and their mouth is moving. Peter blinks, and they come back into focus.

"...what's going on? You look wrecked," Happy says, frowning at him. "Did you forget you're coming over tonight?"

"I'm... what?" Peter stammers out, words half-slurred.

The expression on Happy's face changes, softening slightly into rare concern. "Let's go, kid. Come on, in the car."

Peter lets Happy lead him back to the car, and the world spins as he drops into the backseat.

"Try and get some sleep on the way, okay?" Happy says, and Peter looks up to see the man twisted round in the driver's seat. He nods dumbly.

The journey passes in a blur. Peter's awake, though whether he can be deemed lucid is another matter. When they reach the Tower, Happy opens the door for Peter, who shuffled out.

"Let me help you in," Happy says, but Peter shakes his head.

"No, it's... it's okay, Happy. I'm okay." Peter doesn't want Happy to baby him. All he's missing is a few hours of sleep. He can handle it.

Happy eyes him suspiciously. "You don't look okay, kid. You sure?"

Peter nods. Happy looks like he's about to protest, and he stares right at the man. " _Please_ , Happy, I promise I'm fine."

Reluctantly, Happy nods, frowning. "Alright, kid. Have a good time."

Peter's already inside by the time it occurs to him he was supposed to reply.

He's vaguely sure that FRIDAY greets him on his way to Tony's lab, but he can't be sure if he's imagining her voice and so he stays silent. Eventually, he gets to the lab. Tony is working on some blueprint, manipulating a three-dimensional lattice of some kind. Peter pushes the door open, and Tony glances round for a second before turning back to move round the projection.

"Hey, Pete," he calls.

Peter mumbles out a _hi, Mr. Stark_ , dumping his backpack on the floor. He takes a second to collect himself, trying to push away the exhaustion seeping through his being.

"Peter."

Peter jumps. "Huh?"

"I asked you how school was," Tony says, arms crossed. He's much closer to Peter now. When did he move?

"Oh," Peter says. His tongue is heavy in his mouth.

Tony is silent for a second. "How much sleep have you been getting, kid?"

Peter shrugs. The energy to respond has left him like flowing water.

Tony sighs. "C'mon, spider-boy. Let's get you into bed."

"No, I'm okay," Peter protests suddenly. He doesn't want to try and sleep. He doesn't want to _fail_ to do so.

Tony's gaze softens, but he comes closer to Peter anyway. "No you're not, kiddo. You need to rest. C'mon, let me help you."

Peter's brain is too muddled to produce another response, and so he stumbles along with Tony towards his room despite his reluctance. Tony helps him get there, the route scattered in his memory, and then he's helping Peter get under the covers.

"Get some rest, kiddo," he says softly, and then he's gone.

Peter succumbs to the exhaustion, and falls into a dream.

He stands in the center of a high-ceilinged room, walls torn through with ragged holes stretching upwards. Mist surrounds him, emerald green. Slowly, Peter registers the creature in front of him.

A nightmare in green stands before him, pale skin and black hair and glowing eyes. Peter freezes, horror filling him. It's vaguely humanoid, though the angles of its body are sharp and the tips of its ears are sharper. The being is wreathed in green flame, the same mesmerizing color as the mist. It takes Peter a second longer to realize it's reaching out for him.

He lets out a cry and twists away, darting backwards, but exhaustion weighs in him like a chain and he can't move fast enough to escape. The creature's claws close around his upper arm and squeeze, and pain rips through him as he screams. He screams, and something inside him recognizes that he's woken up screaming, delirious, the world in a haze as his arm burns and burns. Something bangs and he's shaking, voice hoarse as he cries out and the burning in his arm flares.

"Kid! Kid, shh, it's okay," comes a voice, and somewhere in the back of his mind Peter registers that Tony is talking to him, voice soothing. "I got you, kid. It's alright. You're safe."

Slowly, Peter feels his panic calming as he comes back to himself. He's on the floor, tangled in his duvet, and he's gripping his arm tightly. He exhales and lets go shakily, and his gaze flicks upwards to see Tony's face filled with worry.

"That's it, kiddo," he says gently. "Just breathe."

"I'm sorry," Peter whispers.

Tony shakes his head. "It's okay, Peter. It's alright. Everyone gets nightmares."

"I woke you up."

"It's fine, kiddo. You're the priority. Don't worry about it."

Peter nods numbly.

Tony hesitates, something Peter can't make out flashing in his eyes. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asks quietly.

_Green flames. Pale skin._

Peter shakes his head, and looks down.

Tony swallows. "Sure. Okay." There's another pause. "Have you told anyone you're not sleeping, Pete?"

He shakes his head again and Tony sighs. Rationally, Peter knows it's a sound of worry, but it makes him tense all the same.

"How long has this been going on? The sleep problem, and the nightmares?"

"Saturday," Peter croaks out. The graze on his arm flares in response to the admission and he grimaced, hand moving to cover it automatically.

Tony frowns. "What's up with your arm?"

"Nothing."

The man's expression flattens slightly. "Show me your arm, Peter."

Reluctantly, he lets Tony reach for the arm of his tee. He glances to Peter in a silent ask for permission, and Peter tries to ignore the angry flare of the graze when he nods. Tony pulls up his sleeve to his shoulder, and his face visibly pales. He curses. Peter stares.

The graze is almost worse than the first time he got it, an angry scratch, and there's an arcing design of green and black lines curling around it. It's so much more intricate than the last time Peter looked at it, symbols carved into the spaces between lines. Tony swears again, softly, and readjusts his hold. One of his fingers brushes the mark and Peter cries out as pain lances through him at the touch.

Tony lets go like he's been shocked. "Shit," he mutters. "Pete, we're going to go to the medbay, okay?"

Peter nods, familiar exhaustion stealing over him once again as Tony helps him up and out. He barely hears it as Tony talks to FRIDAY, asking her to monitor Peter's health as he's guided over to the medbay bed. A dial tone fills the room, and Peter's consciousness fades as Tony starts speaking.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony's never heard a scream like that from Peter before. He never wants to again.

He'd startled awake at the sound, sprinting into Peter's room to find him on the floor. When he saw the markings on the kid's arm, he realized just how over his head he was. It's why he's still trying to push down his worry and panic, why he's trying a number that in all likelihood will tell him to find someone else. Doctor Stephen Strange hadn't been too impressed with Tony when they first met, after all; there's a chance he'll just reject the call straight away. Tony's still trying, though, because he's damn scared for his kid and he doesn't know who else to ask. The markings on Peter's arm are unlike anything he's ever seen before, the tiny symbols reminding him of Strange's magic.

As the worry circles in his head, the dial tone pauses. "Hello, Stark," Strange answers.

Tony lets out a breath of relief. "Strange. I need your help." He describes the colored lines as best he can, trying not to stumble over his words. _Focus_. "I don't know what this is, Strange. Can you help him?"

There's a brief pause on the end of the line, and Tony frowns. He's about to ask if the other man is still on the line when there's a beep and the call ends.

"Shit," Tony hisses, heart clenching. "Fucking -"

Noise sparks and a wheel of bright, warm light expands before him. Tony takes a step back, feeling his mouth open as Strange appears in the center, stepping straight through the circle as the iris closes behind him. He strides over to Peter, and Tony watches him, slightly stunned.

"Which arm?" Strange asks, tone businesslike.

"Left. Left arm," Tony answers, still shocked. He knew Strange's magic was powerful, but that teleportation has infinite possibilities and applications. His mind starts whirring, running through theories, but suddenly he's snapped back to reality when Strange pulls up Peter's sleeve and freezes. His heart pounds. "What?" he asks. "What is it?"

"I've seen this once before," Strange murmurs, brow furrowing. "This... stay here."

Before Tony can protest the doctor makes a whirling motion with his hand, conjuring another portal and disappearing through it. A second later he reappears with a heavy-bound book in his hands, gold embossing covering it. The edges are slightly worn, aged; the book must be ancient. A circular icon in the center is near-glowing, though Tony doesn't get a good look at it before Strange throws it open with a thump on the table opposite the foot of Peter's bed.

"This is the mark of Nightmare," Strange says, voice low.

"What is that?" Tony asks, frowning.

"An ancient demon," Strange tells him, and Tony's heart misses a beat. "Has he been showing any signs of sleeping badly?"

_Shit. Shit_. "He hasn't slept for days. Keeps getting woken up by... _fuck_ ," he breathes. "Nightmares."

Strange's mouth tightens. "How long for?"

"He said since Saturday."

"Did he come into contact with any suspicious entities around the same time?" Strange asks, words clipped. Tony recognizes the tactic; the doctor is trying to keep his emotions to the side.

Peter's description of the armed woman from his mugging comes back to him then. _Sounds like she's escaped from Strange's rogues gallery_. "Yeah," Tony says, willing himself to stay calm. "Shit. Yeah, some woman yelling a crazy language he didn't know. He said her eyes were flashing or some shit, but I didn't take him seriously. And... goddamnit, he said she shot him and the bullet grazed his arm. Right fucking there."

"Suit?" Strange questions.

Tony flounders for a second while he searches for an explanation. He can't give Peter's identity away; it's not his secret, and even if it was -

"Fine," the doctor interrupts impatiently. "Doesn't matter. From your description, she must have invoked Nightmare. The injury has been functioning as a brand." Strange shakes his head. "Rudimentary understanding of magic is _incredibly_ dangerous. I don't know how she found the spell, but there's a high chance this woman had no real idea what she -"

"Woah, woah, woah," Tony cuts in, words fully registering. "The hell do you mean, a _brand_?"

"A marker. A beacon. Something to indicate this child's existence to Nightmare."

"Jesus _Christ_ ," Tony breathes. How the hell did something this serious happen to Peter? How did Tony not _notice_ earlier? "What does that mean for Peter?"

"Nightmare feeds off psychic energy," Strange explains, "specifically through dreaming. There hasn't been a sighting of it in any circles for centuries, though. My predecessors believed it had been weakened beyond recovery." He turns back to the book, running a finger down the side of the page. "The last time it appeared, it wore down victims with frequent nightmares and trapped them in its realm once too exhausted to resist."

Tony's blood runs cold. "Oh, Jesus." It's like something out of a horror film.

Strange looks up then, meeting his gaze head-on. "Don't panic, Stark. The process takes multiple weeks, and this has only been happening for one. We still have time. We'll wake him up, and try to keep him awake while we figure out a strategy."

Tony nods, panic still threatening to overtake him. "Okay. Fine. Fine."

Strange holds his stare for a moment longer before sweeping over to Peter's bedside. "Peter," he says, surprisingly gentle as he shakes the kid's shoulder. He doesn't stir. "Peter, you need to wake up."

The doctor continues trying to wake him for several seconds, and Tony slowly grows colder. "FRIDAY," he says, trying to keep his voice from belying his anxiety, "give me his vitals."

" _Vitals are normal for a sleeping person, Boss_."

Strange whirls on hearing FRIDAY's words, and stalks back over to the book. Tony darts to Peter's side.

"Kid," he tries, bending down to Peter's level. His face is smooth in sleep, though the tension in his brow shows the dream must be bad. "Kid, please wake up." Peter doesn't move, and Tony lets out a swear. " _Please_ , Pete."

There's still no response. Tony stands up shakily. Strange's shoulders are tight and tense as he stares down at the book.

"What's going on?" Tony asks, mouth dry. "Why won't he wake up?" The other man doesn't reply, and Tony lunges to grab his shoulder. " _Strange_!"

He turns, gaze dark. "We're out of time, Stark. Peter's astral form is trapped in the Dream Dimension."

" _What_? You said it would take weeks!"

"The book was wrong," Strange says, then, lower, "I was wrong. I'm sorry."

"I don't _care_!" Tony yells. "How do I get him out?

"Tony -"

" _How do I get him out_?" His kid is trapped, goddamnit, and Tony Stark isn't going to let anything get in the way of saving him, be it a shitty mystical book or a magic demon or even Strange himself.

The doctor gives him a long, measured look before sighing. "There... is a theoretical way to connect you two, You'll be pulled to the Dimension, and you will have an opportunity to recover him. However, and I _cannot_ stress this enough, you will be under a time limit. If Nightmare notices your presence, it's over. If you fail, you will both be trapped. _Irreversibly_ , Stark."

Tony nods. He can still hear his own heartbeat, loud and heavy in his ears. He takes a breath.

"This is a huge risk," Strange says quietly. "I can't guarantee anything, assuming the method even works."

Peter is a light in his life. He gives off the same aura that Pepper and Rhodey do, safety and trust. Peter has been one of the best influences on Tony's life. He doesn't know what he'd do without the kid, at this point; and he _owes_ it, both to Peter and himself, to keep him safe. As he thinks it over, Tony realizes the decision was never really a contest at all.

"How do we start?" Tony asks, looking the doctor straight in the eye.

Strange nods slowly. "Lay on the bed."

Tony glances at Peter, still so motionless. The other bed in the medbay is far from him, on the other side of the room.

Sensing his reluctance, Strange speaks up. "On the _bed_ , Stark. You're going to be falling asleep. I refuse to perform the procedure if it means you splitting your head open."

Tony squeezes Peter's hand. "I'm coming, kiddo," he whispers, and straightens up.

Strange takes another look at the book as Tony lies down, watching the doctor. He raises his hands in the air, and a line of orange sparks between his hands. It flies outwards to connect to the mark on Peter's arm. There's no reaction; Strange repeats the process for Tony. The light hits his skin and anchors there, radiating a feeling of sparks and heat. Tony gasps slightly. Strange makes a motion and symbols ring around the lines as they drift to meet in his hands. He twists and the strings join together, fusing with a shower of bright fragments of light. Suddenly, pain hits Tony's arm, flaring up.

"What the hell?" he swears, tensing. The line seems to pulse with light as another wave of pain pumps into him.

"Don't fight it, Stark," Strange warns, not looking at him, and he makes another gesture.

"Wait! Wait -" Tony protests. He's forgotten to ask Strange _how_ to save Peter. "How do I know what to do?"

"You'll know," he replies cryptically, making another gesture. The orange lines flash.

"Could you... be... less helpful?" Tony slurs, tiredness suddenly washing over him.

Strange lets out a slight chuckle. "Go to sleep, Tony."

Everything goes black.

He wakes up to a cold, crisp breeze, his breath opaque in the air. His surroundings are dark, a deserted road that's strangely familiar. Tony swallows.

"Hello?" he calls. "Strange?" There's no reply save for the whispering of the trees around him, and he curses to himself. "Fuck's sake."

He looks around again, trying to discern where he is. The road stretches long in both directions, and as Tony squints he realizes he can see a car approaching. Headlights get brighter, and suddenly the vehicle comes fully into view. He _knows_ that plate. He _knows_ that model.

"No. No, no, no," Tony murmurs, taking a horrified step back as it finally hits him.

The car careens to the side of the road and impacts the trees with a crash, and Tony flinches as flames erupt and Howard Stark stumbles out, hitting the ground. Footsteps click behind him and Tony turns to see their assassin approach, gaze dark. Bucky Barnes steps straight towards the car, and Tony's breathing stutters.

"Barnes?" Howard whispers, staring up as Bucky towers over him. Tony hears Maria sobbing, and it ruins him again just like the damn tape in Siberia.

"Howard," she cries out, and Bucky's gaze moves up to the vehicle.

"No," Tony breathes, but he's frozen in place as he watches Bucky change direction. He stalks over to the passenger door and rips it open, bending down to grab his mother's throat as she lets out a choking sound. Tony squeezes his eyes shut, terror invading his senses. His mom is _dying_ in front of him. He can't stop it.

"Maria!" Howard roars, pain filling his voice. Tony flinches back, heart hammering, and Maria's noises of protest die. His father is fumbling for something in his jacket as he staggers to his feet. Metal glints in the moonlight as Bucky advances again, and then Howard is gripping a pistol and he fires, the gunshot cracking through the air. Bucky collapses. Tony lets out a cry, despite himself.

The gun swings round to Tony, and he freezes.

"My killer," Howard snarls, "is on your team?"

His blood is ice in his veins. He can barely hear past the arrhythmic pounding of his heart.

"You _destroyed_ my legacy," Howard hisses, taking a step closer. Tony wants to yell, to scream, to run, but he's paralyzed. "Shutting down the weapons manufacturing of Stark Industries is the worst thing you've ever done, even for _you_ , Anthony."

Tony wants to yell that Howard's weapons are the failures, that Tony's saved millions of people to atone. He's done what his father never could. He's surpassed being just his _greatest creation_. Now that he's faced with his father once again, though, real and physical and not just a hologram like the BARF stunt at MIT, all his childhood fear is rushing back and rooting him to the spot. He can't speak.

"Your mother would be so disappointed in you. A drunk and a failure," Howard sneers.

He's been sober for months, thanks to Pepper and Peter. The company's clean energy drive is successful. Tony is _happy_.

Howard steps forward again, advancing as he raises the gun. Tony's mouth goes dry, and suddenly there's a flash in the corner of his vision and _Peter_ appears, skidding to a halt between them just as Howard pulls the trigger. Tony screams and Peter crumples.

"Peter! Kid, shit, _kid_ , Jesus Christ -" Tony shouts, dropping to his knees. Peter's stomach is soaked in blood, and he's gasping as he strains to breathe. Panic hazes Tony's vision.

"Mr. Stark?" the kid breathes, looking up at him with glassy eyes. "I don't... I don't feel so good."

His voice cracks on the last word and something in Tony's chest does too, and he frantically searches for the wound in Peter's chest, pressing down on it. Peter lets out a pained, choking sound as Tony applies pressure.

"I'm sorry, kid, I'm so sorry," Tony whispers. "Just hold on, okay?" he pleads, though for what he has no idea. He's trapped in a damn dreamworld. Help isn't coming.

"You're not fit to mentor a child, Anthony," Howard scolds from behind him. Something in Tony tenses up at the words. "You never will be. All you do is get him hurt."

Tony jumps up, adrenaline raging through him as he makes a fist, decking Howard to the floor. The _crack_  opens a dam inside him, and then Howard is crouching on the ground with blood trickling from his nose, glaring up at Tony. The gun is suddenly in his hands.

"You know what, Dad?" Tony forces out, wrapping his hands around the grip. "You don't know _anything_ about me. Not when I was a kid, and damn well not now. I've done what you could never, ever do." He takes a shuddering breath in. "I'm not afraid of you anymore."

The words hang still in the air for one long moment before they fade away and so does Howard. Tony takes an uncertain step back, and glances back over his shoulder to check on Peter.

The kid is gone, vanished with no trace. An empty chill sweeps over Tony. He was part of the dream. He looks down at his hands to see the gun is gone, and he's standing in a dark void. Tony nearly stumbles forward, the darkness making vertigo swirl in his head. Biting chill eats into him and suddenly he's on the ground, eyes wide and panicked as Steve slams his shield down and pain rips through Tony's chest. Static prickles through his body as Obie tazes him, and then the car flips with a screech of hot metal and Vanko spins his whips as he approaches, and Pepper is falling from the sky, and he's staring into the face of a camera as the Ten Rings train their guns on him.

"This isn't real," Tony breathes, as the scene changes to Peter, being batted impossibly hard across the airport in Berlin and crashing to a stop. Yinsen dies and Tony can't stop it, and then Hammer's drones activate and screaming fills the air. JARVIS tells him the palladium core is poisoning him, and Tony feels the bone-deep pain of the reactor burrow into his chest. " _This isn't real_!"

The Avengers lie broken before him, Steve shouting of Tony's betrayal. Jack Taggart screams, about to explode. Ultron's seized body staggers towards them, laughing, and Rhodey plummets to the ground. Pepper turns her back on him and says it's for good. The mansion is destroyed in a blaze of pain and heat. The atmosphere thins and tears mar his vision as Tony flies upward, through the wormhole, the nuke crushingly heavy on his back as the call to Pepper fails, and he lets out a hoarse yell and the dream shatters like glass.

Everything goes quiet.

Chitauri-filled space is replaced by a world of slowly-shifting planes, green mist drifting past. The air smells of dust and books, and it's still and slightly warm. Four chitin walls stretch high, curving inwards at the top of the room to form the ceiling of what seems to be a high-fantasy cubicle. Irregular holes gaping in the walls form makeshift windows to whatever's outside, but Tony's can't see anything except a darkness that hurts his eyes to look at. In the corner, suddenly, he notices Peter huddled in a ball in the corner of the room, and his heart drops.

"Peter!"

He scrambles over, voice oddly muted in the silence, but Peter flinches away and Tony freezes. The kid is whispering something under his breath, seemingly unaware, eyes glassy. The mark on his arm is glowing through his tee.

"Peter?" Tony asks softly, trying to gauge his reaction. Peter just keeps staring forward, face twisted in fear. Tony gently lays a hand on the kid's knee, and that's when he realizes his mistake.

The moment they make contact, his surroundings start to warp and twist. Tony lets out a curse as Peter disappears again, and he falls right through the space where the kid was. He lands hard, winded as he groans and pain judders through him. Tony opens his eyes to a dark, destroyed building site, rubble covering the area around him. He doesn't recognize it. A layer of dust has settled over everything, and it's in the air, too, irritating his lungs. He coughs once, glancing around. Everything is eerily silent until a strangled voice breaks the quiet.

"Help!" someone cries out, and it's _Peter_.

Tony tenses. "Kid!" he yells back, but he's drowned out by a hoarse scream of exertion from ahead.

"Please, I'm down here -" Peter shouts, voice cracking and breaking. Tony scrambles forward, stumbling through the rubble and pushing his way past blocks of concrete and warped tangles of rebar. "I'm stuck. I'm _stuck_ , I can't," Peter sobs. Tony runs faster, nearly tripping over a patch of rubble that shifts as he sprints across it. He skids to a halt in front of a huge piece of rubble, and the faint sound of Peter panting desperately from underneath reaches him. Tony swallows, staring. His dreams were based on his memories and his fears. If it's the same for both of them, Peter never told him he got crushed by a _building_. The words leave him in that second, and it's enough time for a figure to walk up beside him.

May Parker looks down into the crumbling hole that Peter's trapped in, long hair lifting slightly in the breeze, face oddly uninterested.

"You should really be able to get yourself out of this, sweetie," May says, voice kind.

Peter lets out a choked, "May?"

"It's your fault you're there, isn't it?" she continues, seemingly ignoring her nephew. "You should have been more careful."

"May, please," Peter whimpers, tone cracking. "May, I'm trapped, I can't -"

"Peter," she says gently. "I'm not sure I should help you."

" _Please_ ," Peter sobs. "Please."

May considers for a second, and Tony just watches on in silent horror. "What do you think?" she asks, and with a jolt he wonders if she's speaking to him. The thought is dispelled, though, when two others step up next to her. "Do you think we should help him?"

Peter's friend MJ stands with crossed arms, looking on with total apathy on her face. "I wouldn't," she says. "Waste of energy."

"MJ, I -"

Tony recognizes Ned, the kid who hacked his suit, on May's other side. He's shaking his head and frowning down into the rubble. "This is so uncool, Peter," he complains.

"Ned! Ned, please, you gotta help me," Peter begs. "I need -"

"Come on, Petey."

Tony's mouth goes dry as a man steps up between May and Ned. He's only seen him once before, in a photograph worn at the corners in Peter's wallet.

"Ben?" Peter whispers, utterly heartbroken.

"You didn't use your powers to save me, kiddo. You don't deserve to use them to get out of here."

"Ben, I -" Peter breaks off in a sob. "I'm _sorry_ ," he chokes out. Tony's heart twists.

Ben shakes his head, smiling as he puts an arm round May. "Sorry won't bring me back, Petey."

Tony feels his breathing speed up as Peter lets out another strangled sound, pain reverberating through it. _It can't get worse than this_ , he thinks. He knows how much guilt Peter harbors over Ben's death from late-night talks, though he's never been able to convince the kid it wasn't his fault. Coming back and blaming Peter must, indeed, be one of the kid's worst nightmares.

The hope that this is the furthest the dream can go dissipates when another voice starts talking.

The sound of someone clearing their throat echoes through the destruction, and Tony goes cold as a shining suit of armor appears. It's _him_ that steps out, adjusting the cuffs of his suit. Dream-Tony swaggers right up to the lip of the hole Peter's trapped in, and looks down with a curled lip.

"I knew you were nothing without the suit," he comments, and Peter makes a noise of devastation.

Tony sees red, and launches himself towards the asshole. Anger ignites in his chest as he shoves Dream-Tony away, sending him stumbling backwards.

"You shut the fuck up," Tony hisses. Dream-Tony eyes him, and the Parkers and Peter's friends' eyes narrow.

Peter is scared of their rejection. _Tony's_ rejection. He's going to fix that if it's the last damn thing he does.

Tony turns back around, dropping down and staring towards the hole. He can barely make out a hint of dark curls, a tinge of red, through the gap. "You can do this, Pete," he says firmly, trying to keep his voice from wavering. His _kid_ is under that rubble. "I believe in you so damn much, kiddo, you hear me? You can _do_ this."

He does believe in Peter, almost painfully so. It took the clusterfuck around his homecoming to properly open Tony's eyes, but the kid is a hero from head to toe. He can do anything he puts his mind to, whether it's Spider-Man or Lego or his decathlon team. His respect for the kid is only growing, now, knowing that Peter is so scared and he's still carrying on.

"Mr. Stark?" comes a quiet voice.

"That's right, kid. It's me. I got you. You're alright," Tony says, keeping focused on Peter, who lets out a pained grunt. "I'll help you," Tony continues. "We'll lift this together, alright? You understand, kid?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah," Peter stammers numbly, voice wavering.

"Okay, Pete. You can do it. Lift with me on three, okay? You count."

Peter gasps out a _Three_ , and Tony hears the figures behind him shuffle. When he twists around to see, they're gone.

"Two," Peter says, wheezing slightly.

Tony wraps his hands around the largest piece of rubble before him, the one trapping Peter, and goes into a crouch. _Lift with the knees, not with the back_. He wishes he had his suit to help save Peter, but Dream-Tony's tech vanished along with the man himself.

"One."

Tony heaves upward, muscles straining and screaming as he pulls at the rubble with a wheezing grunt. Peter lets out another hoarse cry from underneath, and Tony's limbs tremble, threatening to let go.

"Come _on_ ," Tony snarls, straining further. _Just a little more, come the fuck on -_

The building comes free and topples, and Tony nearly falls backwards. The rubble collapses in the space where he was standing with a _thoom_ , dust flying up around it. There's another noise straight after, fainter, and Tony sprints over to the hole to see Peter's collapsed. He rushes forward.

"Kid! Jesus, Peter -"

"Are you real?" Peter asks dazedly, looking up at him with half-aware eyes. Tony falters. "You helped me. Are you real this time?"

Horror fills him and the words evaporate from his mind. What the _hell_ else did Dream-Tony do? How long has Peter been here?

A _plink_ breaks him out of the shock, and Tony looks down to see water pooling around their feet. "What the hell?" he mutters.

There's a whimper, and his gaze snaps back up to see Peter trembling slightly, face white at the sight of the water that's now flooding to reach their ankles. He takes a step back and the pool rises further, and suddenly vertigo sweeps over Tony in a dizzying wave and the world tilts wildly.

He plunges into the water and sinks, darkness filling his vision. They're deep underwater. Tony can barely see the hints of sunlight through the surface, far above them. There's a muffled, gargling yell from behind him and Tony whirls as best he can, fighting the water. Peter is thrashing desperately, tangled in white fabric. Tony's heart drops as he recognizes the suit's parachute, twisted up and waterlogged, trapping Peter as he struggles. In this fucked-up world, Tony can't send a suit to help him like before, and Peter is _drowning_ because of it. He lunges towards the kid, batting away the parachute, lungs burning as he tries to get closer. Peter's struggles start to subside, limbs getting weaker, and panic crawls up Tony's chest. The parachute settles around him like a cocoon and Tony rips it away, kicking round to the back of Peter's suit. He fiddles with the chute mechanism before ripping the parachute away, kicking it further down and away from them. He grabs Peter's limp form, horribly floppy, and lunges for the surface, desperately trying to pull the kid higher. Blackness creeps along the edge of his vision, and his lungs scream in protest as the last bubbles of air escape. His chest is unbearably tight, and the awful realization hits Tony that they're _not going to make it_ , just as his hand finally breaks the water and feels cold air. He lunges upwards, gasping in air as he hauls Peter to the surface. The kid lolls in his grip, and Tony curses. He doesn't know how to save someone from drowning while they're still in the damn water. He looks around wildly, his surroundings spinning. All he can see is _water_ , stretching to the horizon. Tony curses again, and then a strange feeling comes over him. The water underneath them drains away like a bath down the drain, and suddenly Tony is kneeling on the floor with Peter clutched in his arms.

They're back in the high-ceilinged room, the mist still floating. This time, though, it's not just Tony and Peter.

A nightmare in green stands before them, white eyes blazing with anger, skin deathly pale, hair ink-black. The jagged lines of its silhouette are blanketed by an emerald cape, the color matching the drifting mists. As Tony stares, eyes wide because what the _fuck_ is happening, it seems to grow in size until it towers over them.

"How did you get here?" it snaps, voice deep.

Tony glares, trying not to let his hands shake as he grips Peter tightly. "I'm here to take the kid back," he snarls.

"The boy is _mine_. He is the gateway to regaining my strength, and my full power. He bears the mark."

"The asshole who gave him that had _no idea_ what she was doing!" Tony yells.

"That may be so, but it is of no consequence. He will not be leaving; now, neither will you. Your plan has _failed_."

Suddenly, the demon is across the room in a flash and Tony's choking, held up in the air by one crushing hand. He scrabbles at the fingers around his neck, but Nightmare doesn't move. Black dots his vision as the grip tightens, and Tony lets out a strangled noise.

"Stop."

Nightmare's eyes flick to something behind him, and Tony's blood freezes at the sound of Peter's voice.

"Put him down," the kid demands.

"You are in _my_ realm, boy," Nightmare hisses. "Do not dare to test me."

Peter lets out a noise that sounds like a _laugh_. "Seriously, dude? You sound like a bad nineties villain. I can't take you seriously. Just let him go."

" _Stop_ , kid," Tony chokes out, because Peter is only making things worse for himself. He has no idea what Nightmare will do to him, and it's all because -

The suffocating grip on his throat vanishes, and Tony falls to the ground and heaves in desperate breaths. Pain jitters through his knees as he hits the floor. Air floods his system and he nearly blacks out from the protesting in his lungs, coughing.

"You will regret your insubordination," comes an inhumane hiss, and Tony twists back round to see Nightmare advancing on Peter. He wants to scream, to lunge forward, but there's no _air_ and he can barely see.

The mark on Peter's arm flares bright, glowing even to Tony, and Peter's face whites with fear for a second before his brows lower. The green glow flickers.

Nightmare falters.

"That won't work," says Peter, the glow stuttering and failing, "because they did come back for me. He's here." He points to Tony, eyes still locked with Nightmare.

The demon snarls, "How _dare_ you?" Flames wreath around him, suddenly bursting into life with crackling filling the air and an ashy smell invading the room. He lunges for Peter and Tony cries out, but the kid dodges at the last second.

There's a smile on his face. "I'm not afraid of you."

The glow fizzles out.

Peter decks Nightmare across the room, and the demon hits the opposite wall with a crack. It lets out a shriek and Peter flinches backwards, hands flying up to cover his ears as the mist in the room swirls and collates like a tornado. Nightmare screeches again before the fog whirls over to him and encircles him securely, and then suddenly the mist and the demon vanish from existence with an echoing howl that resounds in the silence.

A breath. "Tony?" Peter whispers.

Tony opens his mouth, and everything goes black.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter wakes up slowly, to a white ceiling and soft tapping. He blinks for a few seconds, breathing in and out, calming himself, before he props himself up on his elbows to look around. He recognizes the medbay, clean and bright. His gaze passes over the man sitting by his bedside, and pauses there. 

Tony's leg stops bouncing, and he smiles tiredly. "Hey, kiddo."

"Mr. Stark?" he asks, voice hoarse. Flashes of memory come back to him: the building, the river, the demon.  _Tony_. "Was that... was that really you?"

"Yeah," Tony says. "Yeah, that was me."

Peter swings his legs over the edge of the bed and Tony leans forward, and they both hug each other tightly. "Thank you, Mr. Stark," he says, muffled, into Tony's shoulder.

The older man lets out a half-laugh, arms tightening around him. "I'm so proud of you, Pete. So proud. You got us out."

Peter's about to respond when the door swings open, and Tony lets go to twist in his seat, still holding on to Peter's hand. A man in a flowing red coat strides in, a gaudy pendant hanging around his neck, salt-and-pepper hair around his temples. He stops at the end of Peter's bed, and clears his throat.

"Ah," he says, nodding slightly. "You're awake. Hello, Peter."

"Hey, Doc," Tony says, sounding amused, then turns back to Peter. "This is Doctor Strange. He figured out what was going on so I could come and help you."

A rush of gratitude floods him. "Thank you."

Strange nods slightly, then crosses over to the other side of his bed. "May I...?" he asks, gesturing to Peter's sleeve.

The  _mark_ : he'd nearly forgotten about it. Peter pulls the tee up as an answer, exposing his shoulder. The skin is clear and clean, no trace of the graze that caused so much trouble. Peter lets out a sigh of relief, and he can practically hear the remnants of Tony's tension dissipate as he sighs.

"The brand is gone," Strange tells them. "I can't detect any remaining traces of demonic presence." He drops Peter's arm, and inclines his head towards Tony. "Your boy is fine. Nightmare shouldn't be troubling anyone again for a long while." Peter flushes, ready to open his mouth and tell Strange he's not Tony's, but the mechanic just squeezes his hand and stops him short.

"Thank God," Tony murmurs.

Strange's voice is almost amused when he adds, "The sleep, however..."

Peter didn't even realize he was yawning until Tony lets out a laugh. "You're really proving his point there, kiddo."

"Sorry," Peter mumbles, the sound mangled from the half-yawn, half-laugh that escapes him.

"C'mon, kid," Tony tells him. "Let's get you to bed. God knows we both need it, huh?"

" _According to Ms Potts, you certainly do_ ," FRIDAY chips in, and Tony rolls his eyes as he hides a grin. Peter laughs.

"You're supposed to be on my side, FRI," Tony mock-huffs.

" _Sorry_ ," she replies, not sounding apologetic in the least.

Tony shakes his head as a smile spreads across his face, and gets up. Peter follows him, and they're about to leave the room when Tony turns.

"Thanks for all your help, Strange," he says, nodding. "I, uh... I really appreciate it."

Strange inclines his head. "It's no problem. I'd like to talk to you for a second, though, Stark," he adds, and Tony glances at Peter.

"Go on, Pete. I'll be out in a sec."

"Okay," Peter says, and, at Tony's ushering, steps outside. The door shuts behind him, but when Strange starts speaking Peter realizes he can still hear the conversation. He takes a step towards the door, listening.

"For the record, Stark," Strange's voice begins, "I'm... glad you were successful. The world would have lost a great mind had you not been."

Peter can practically hear Tony's shit-eating grin. "Aw, I knew you liked me."

"I don't -"

"Yes, you do," Tony interrupts.

Strange makes an odd sound. "You are absolutely  _insufferable_ ," he says, "but I digress. I don't know what happened while you two were under, but I know you, Stark. I know how bad you are at communication."

There's the sound of shifting clothing from inside, and Peter imagines Tony crossing his arms. "Do you, now?" he asks.

"I do. I also know that not talking about this experience will benefit absolutely nobody."

"Maybe talking won't help either," Tony rebuts, voice becoming a touch more defensive.

Strange pauses. "Tony," he says, and the atmosphere becomes a touch more serious. "The things you saw in there... Nightmare utilizes existing fears and trauma to create those experiences. Whatever you saw, whoever you saw, you hold some sort of fear of."

Tony is silent for a moment. "That makes sense," he mutters. "I'm scared of a lot of shit, then, I guess."

"There's no shame in that, Stark. Whatever Peter saw in there," Strange continues, "he will likely need help to work through too. You can help each other." Peter tenses slightly, becoming on edge. He's not sure he'll be able to talk about it: reliving the building and Ben with the addition of his apathetic family was bad enough the first time. He's not sure he can go through it a second.

"And you think I can help him with that?"

"I know you can," Strange says. "You've both been through the same thing. He needs you, Stark, and you need him. Promise me you won't keep to yourself."

"I, uh... yeah. I promise."

"Good."

A beat passes in complete quiet. Peter swallows.

"Anyway." Tony clears his throat, and there's a clap. The tension dissipates almost entirely. "Don't you have a castle or something to get back to?"

A heavy sigh. "Stark, I am a  _sorcerer_ , not some kind of fictional wizard. For God's sake, you've  _seen_ the Sanctum."

"Doesn't make the joke any less funny."

"Yes, it does."

"Nope," Tony shoots back, elongating the  _n_. There's a click and Peter takes a step back as the door opens. "Let's go, kiddo."

Peter grins as they walk away, a fizzing noise and footsteps erupting briefly behind them. "You guys are so similar," he quips. Strange's asshole demeanor is strikingly like Tony's  _genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist Tony Stark_  persona.

Tony frowns, slinging an arm around Peter. "No, we are not."

"You are, Mr. Stark. It's really funny," Peter tells him.

"Alright. Comparisons to the good doctor are now banned, Parker."

Peter laughs as they enter the elevator and it starts smoothly moving to the residential floor. "Come on, Mr. Stark."

"You say I'm like Strange, huh? Then you can't guilt me into changing my mind. I'm a serious man who represses my emotions," Tony says dramatically, lowering his voice in a bad approximation of the doctor.

They come to a stop outside Peter's room, opposite Tony's, and they pause as Tony lets go of Peter and turns to face him. He takes a breath.

"Look, kid, I... am assuming you heard us talking."

Peter shrugs. "Yeah," he admits.

Tony pauses for a second before extending a hand to rest on his shoulder. "He's not wrong. I need to work on opening up more, and I think we probably both need to talk about what happened in there. Right?" he asks, pausing, and Peter nods once. Tony squeezes his shoulder. "Tomorrow, though, because I am _damn_ tired."

Peter smiles despite himself. "Okay, Mr. Stark," he says. "Thank you."

Tony makes a  _psh_ noise and waves his hand. "No problem, kiddo. Have a good night, okay?"

"Okay, Mr. Stark."

Tony hesitates. "I love you, Pete. Don't forget," he says, and Peter feels his face break into a smile.

"I love you too, Mr. Stark. And... I meant what I said in there, you know."

"What?"

"When I said I wasn't scared. I meant it. You came back for me. It couldn't make me think you weren't anymore."

Tony's face visibly softens. "I'll always come back for you, kid. Always."

Peter smiles. "I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's a wrap! i found this super fun to write - it didn't go particularly deep or wind up particularly complex, but i really enjoyed creating it, and i hope you all enjoyed it too. the ending is a little open, so i may well come back to this storyline one day! please leave a comment letting me know what you thought - i absolutely adore hearing from all of you!
> 
> if you're in the mood for more irondad and spiderson, check out my longer ongoing fic "broken thoughts (i remember everything)".
> 
> lastly, thank you all so, so much for reading. <3 i appreciate each and every single one of you!

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at [blackwatchandromeda](https://blackwatchandromeda.tumblr.com/)!


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